FALAHA'S JOURNEY 2: Graveyard of the Gods

Episode #9

"I suspect we are already intruding, so I'd expect resistance at some point," Orewen said, walking in front of me.

"They, whoever that might be, already assaulted my crew while Asa and the rest just went to observe. So the one who retaliates here is me. We did nothing to provoke whoever inhabits this space. But if barely existing is a provocation, then... you know what I mean."

"That's not what explorer's manual tells, love," Orewen retorted. "In fact, we are forbidden from making contact. And destroy anyone in the process."

I frowned and drilled my glare into his broad black back so he must have physically felt it. "Ore, we are the ones in danger here, not them. I just want to know what is blocking my senses. That thing is gotta go. Besides, I don't want to remind you how our last war started when our own explorer armada dragged home our executioners. Cautious much, hah! But we never attack first. Never. We rarely even interfere with someone else's business. It was always so. Since the beginning of time, since your father became the first Rjg of the Commonwealth. But... pushed too far, even we can bite. Bite off the venomous hea—" I didn't get to finish as Ore turned around and pushed me to the side with such speed, I almost bit my tongue. Holding me close, his response with a dive cannon was swift and I heard a distant but loud metallic noise of a collapsing machine. Destroyed. In the spot where I stood a blink ago was a hole from a dive blast. Tagai took a combat stance and bared his fangs, quietly growling.

"I told you," Ore said, worried about our slow responses to danger.

"By the Ancestor, I'm blinded! Tagai is blinded!" I protested. "At least you have your sensors!"

"Out of three of us they targeted you, Falaha."

"It's personal then," I replied. "Maybe they have something against a Sangu." And freed myself from Orewen's tight grasp. "But I'm not going to apologize for being born this way."

"Should we call for backup?" Orewen asked, scanning the far reaches of the tunnel for more enemy machines.

"Do not tell Eyuran!"

"He knows since he can see my data. He knows I've engaged something in combat already."

Before I could answer, I got an incoming call from Eyuran. "What's going on there, Falaha?"

"That's what I'm trying to figure out," I replied, weary. Sometimes he was overbearing. "But we are still alive and well. Zero-One is doing his job."

"I'm coming there as well and taking Baro with me."

"No, dear. You both are on Gal Runagh defenses. And that's an order. I'll kick your ass if you set your foot here. And I'm dead serious. Don't piss me off more than I already am." Was I really getting angry? Yes, a bit. I knew that was my weakness now, but I couldn't help myself.

I took a deep breath. Breathe, Falaha. Breathe.

Even if a little, I managed to calm down. Still with blind senses, but calm nonetheless.

"Falaha?" Eyuran was still online.

"I'm fine."

"You sure?"

"No, I'm not sure," I replied with sarcasm. "I need someone else's assessment and approval of my own feelings."

My first spouse sighed and disconnected. Orewen shook his head but said nothing. Tagai was sniffing the air but wasn't keen on moving forward. I took a breath and went ahead of my company. "Come on, I hope we're close to figuring things out and be done here."

Tagai and Ore followed.

***

Would that dive-shot kill me? Probably not. Barely scratch, yes. But now I was sure the enemy, whatever it was, had little understanding of a Baal's capabilities. Or, perhaps, it was testing me. I walked forward, now more and more determined to find a resolution to this issue. After a long march in the dimly lit hallway, we entered a vast hall.

Another dead end.

The bright, almost blinding lights came on unexpectedly and several gates in front wall started to open, revealing armed figures in gear and more machines. I couldn't see their faces under the helmets, but the soldier figures weren't different from our own. They rushed forward and took formations, aiming their weapons at us and blocking our path. There were hundreds of people. It seems now I got a welcome according to my status.

Standing in front of the armed forces greeting me, I raised my hands, showing my open palms.

The whole situation reminded me of something I already saw. The people who Dorgu was killing on Dakha when he came to claim my ancestor. It was almost a similar picture now. The only difference was that I wasn't here to murder any of them.

Orewen needed little time to clean the whole place before they could even blink, but he was following my lead. Tagai changed his form again, shifting to the one similar to us. He didn't want to fight either.

"I am unarmed and I'm not here to fight," I said loudly. "Lower your weapons, so we could speak."

So I said, but did any of them understand me? If they had no soma in their blood, they probably didn't.

And then, a lone, tall figure stepped forward. It took of its helmet to reveal a middle-aged man with black hair and blue eyes. His skin was pale, but it looked rather unhealthy. Sickly even. Dark rings under his eyes confirmed that.

"Why are you here?" His voice was rough and gravelly, but not in a pleasant way and, by the sounds he made when breathing, I strongly felt some deep sickness clutching his airways. "Can't you see we are not your opponents? We just want to survive. Leave us be." He sounded dead tired. Yet he understood me, and I understood him. So he had soma.

I quickly glanced at Orewen. He nodded. He, as a rescuer, was also baffled why a person with soma turned out to be so sick.

"You assaulted my crew when they approached the tunnels. They did nothing to you, yet you attacked first. Why?"

"We must defend ourselves... But we have nothing of value to you. Please, leave."

"We are not affiliated with whatever is targeting you," I said.

"Liar. We saw Him speaking to you in the desert. He's one of them. You are one of them too."

"A Baal?" I looked at Tagai. But he seemed not to be the object of these people's hatred.

"No, our—" His body bent down involuntarily, entering a coughing frenzy. Black splotches fell to the ground, the sides of his mouth also smeared in black. When the coughing fit was over, he wiped his mouth with the back of his gloved hand and straightened his back. "Our torturers."